In a spider web
by Syntia13
Summary: BW. Cheetor got tangled in a web and can't get out. Side note: Tarantulas is a psycho. I'm not so sure about Cheetor. WARNINGS: Slash, noncon of sorts, Tarantulas's POV


**A/N1: **(It was first posted at http :// community. livejournal. com/mechaerotica, which is now practically unavailable unless you are a member already. Why? Because of that 'protecting the minors' witch hunt over at the livejournal. Talk about paranoia. Anyway.)

**A/N2:** It would probably be better for the world if that thing remained forever trapped in the dark corners of my mind.  
But I wanted it out. So here, take it away, it's been bothering me.

**In a spider web **

_Cheetor got tangled in a web and can't get out.  
(side note: Tarantulas is a psycho. I'm not so sure about Cheetor)  
_**_Warnings:_**_ Slash, non-con of sorts, Tarantulas's POV_

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He was so beautifully scared, the little cheetah trapped in my web. So young and gullible; innocent to the point of not understanding what I was hinting at.

It was such a shame, I remember thinking, that the rat had barged in before I could do what I wanted. Before I could lay out his energy-drained body on the ground, functioning but too weak to struggle. Mine to do however I pleased. Such a shame...  
The rat knew, of course. A 'sick bug', he called me. It takes one to know one, I guess. Luck was on his side that day. He stole the pussycat from me, took him back to safety.

But he didn't keep him safe for long, did he.

It was a pleasant surprise to find my kitty snooping around my new lair. Murmuring empty threats into the air, stumbling over his own paws, less inconspicuous than a C-day parade. A silly child playing the revenge game, I thought, chuckling and firing a web at the ground behind him. One kick to the chestplate was all it took - he landed heavily on his back, right in the middle of an impromptu trap.  
Such fear in his optics, when he realized he couldn't get up.  
So wildly his spark fluttered, when I crawled atop of him.  
No fancy toys this time. I didn't want to be interrupted again.

Oh, how he struggled and cursed me, when I invaded his innocent body. How he thrashed and cried at his first overload ever, and how he swore to kill me for doing it to him.  
Exhausted and sated, I laughed in his face.  
"See if you can, kitty," I taunted. "See if you can."  
I left him there, tangled in my web, to free himself, or for his comrades to find him - whichever came first.

I didn't think much of it later. I got what I wanted, and the kitty was off to his friends, to hide or share his shame and humiliation - whichever he chose.

But not a month later, he was back - with more weapons, better threats, and stronger motivation. So intent on seeking me out, that he never noticed me creeping up on him. I put a poisoned dart in his neck, and he collapsed in an unconscious heap.  
How I laughed when I took him again, careful not to leave any evidence on him. Let the kitty wake up in few hours, and wonder what had happened, how it happened, _did_ anything happen...  
The thought of his scared confusion kept my circuits warm and crackling excitedly all night. Messing with his mind was almost as good as messing with his body - and at this point, I knew I'd get much more of both. Because, you see, I've realized that even though he fought, cried and cursed that first time... _he never told me to stop_.

And how right I was. He kept coming back for more. He would show up near my lair, waving his gun around, and screaming for me to come out where he could shoot me - and he would always end up on his back, taking it. And every time he screamed and cursed, thrashed and beat at me if I allowed him. And after I was through with him, he would run home with his tail between his legs... only to be back in less than three weeks.

As a passing fancy, I decided to find out what was driving him into my webs. Did he like it, was it a forbidden fruit, maybe the thrill of adventure?  
It wasn't hard to plant a bug on him. I listened to his conversations, quarrels, music he was listening to... And very fast I discovered a pattern to our little encounters.

Whenever the rat called him 'kiddo' too many times...  
Whenever Optimus didn't allow him to do something...  
Whenever he screw up some repairs and had to hand them over to the rhino...  
Whenever Dinobot snarled contemptuously at his young age...

_--oh, how I laughed when I understood this--_

...my little kitty would run to me...

_--that even though he was losing a part of his appeal to me--_

...to scream and curse as I took him...

_--with every bit of lost innocence--_

...because he though that in doing what I was doing to him...

_--with every gained bit of maturity--_

...I acknowledged him as equal.

_--HE though that I was the only person who treated him like an adult_.

_-_

I laughed and laughed that day, watching him run back home, reassured in his nonexistent maturity.

If only you knew, kitty. If only you knew.

_--_

Oh yes, he _was_ growing up, slowly but surely. One day, I remember thinking, I wouldn't be able to find any of that sweet innocence in his face. That day, the little kitty would not come back home from his trip. The Maximal would search for him, oh yes. They'd find his dead shell, ripped open, with evidences of all that had been done to him. I couldn't wait to see their faces, Optimus's in particular. He was so protective toward my kitty...

But for now, I basked in his fleeting youth, his screams and the rattle of his shuddering frame the sweetest music in my ears, an occasional bite-mark a trophy.

And then Megatron unintentionally hindered my plans. How furious I was, watching the black beast rampaging on my screens. I knew I could never defeat this thing as easily as my kitty.  
I wouldn't even want to. There was nothing I could take from this feral creature.

Then Optimus, also unintentionally, helped me. I was delighted to see my kitty learning to control his new form. The Maximals thought the experience did him good. Helped him grow up. Just shows how little they knew.

He came to me the very same night. He didn't put up any resistance, there was no screaming or cursing that night. He merely whimpered, terrified and lost in his alien, transmetal form, relying on me, of all bots, to guide him. A sparkling, crawling under the bed to assure himself that the monster that lived there was a worse monster than himself.

So big and strong, yet still so young and fragile. I laughed, realizing that I'd have to wait to see the look of horror on Optimus's face. My kitty still had plenty to be robbed of.

_--_

Maybe, in the end, I was the biggest obstacle on my way to achieving my goal. I did too good a job of 'consoling' him. He never showed up again. I kept telling myself he would. All that confidence he showed to the world couldn't possibly be real.

Maybe I was wrong. Now I know I'll never have a chance to finish this little game. I won't see the shock of betrayal in his dying optics, I won't savor his comrades' grief.

He sneaks into my lair today, destroying my arachnoid quite unnecessarily. Oh yes, he came, but not for me. He doesn't spare me a glance, the ungrateful brat. He is here for that Tigerhawk creature. He drags the freak to safety, leaving me for dead.  
Just before my spark goes out, I 'see' him for the last time, strong and determined to protect his 'friend'.

My little kitty, all grown up and off to manage without me.

See if you can, kitty. See if you can...


End file.
